Ani ledodi vedodi li
by Aesculap
Summary: There are a few things that probably will never make it into the Winchester Gospels. Like how do you talk about windows that had been orgasmed to smithereens by an Angel of the Lord? Dean/Castiel with Sam, Bobby, Chuck, Ellen, Jo and Gabriel
1. Bobby

**AN:** _written for the deancas_xmas gift exchange; As 5.10 hadn't been aired at the time I started writing this story is kind of AU; many thanks to my beta who really isn't into Dean/Cas and still had the balls to read to all the fluff :)_

_I tired to mix the following prompts:  
1. It's Christmas time either during the fight against Lucifer or just after his defeat and Sam, Dean, Cas, Bobby, Chuck (and maybe Ellen, Jo, Anna, and/or Rufus) are at Bobby's. Sort of an odd extended family holiday. Humorous, but maybe a little melancholy or bittersweet at moments  
2. Dean/Cas from Sam, Bobby, Chuck, and/or Ellen's POV  
With a bit of the following requests: First time fic, Dean and/or Cas realizing and/or coming to terms with their feelings about each other, Matchmaker!Sam, Chuck, Bobby, Angst with happy ending, in character humor_

* * *

When Bobby got the call he immediately told Sam to bring his brother to the junk yard. Sam hadn't been terribly detailed and Bobby knew better than to bug the poor boy with questions. He didn't even need to ask, he knew those boys like the back of his hand. Dean was way too proud to acknowledge to even himself that he needed help. And there was only so much his brother could accomplish. The younger Winchester had already sounded tired. Weary. Bobby didn't know about that damn Angel of Dean's but obviously they needed at least a safe place for a few days, to regroup. And someone to give them a piece of his mind.

The older hunter had no idea how it had happened. But Sam had made it terribly clear that Dean's condition was final. Of course Sam would not have abandoned all hope before trying to move heaven and earth – or hell – and quite literally in Sam's case, Bobby was sure. The older hunter could still recall how the younger Winchester had acted after Dean's death vividly – too vividly if you'd ask him. No, if Sam said there was nothing they could do the old hunter believed the kid.

So, now he had to prepare his house. While still in that damn wheelchair. But Bobby had accomplished worse. In his mind he was already making a list – so much to do, so much to consider. It kept his brain busy, preventing him from worrying too much. Damn Winchesters. They always meant trouble.

The old hunter decided to adapt the small closet next to his kitchen so Dean wouldn't have to use the stairs. It was hardly big enough to fit a proper bed inside but Bobby had no spare bed anyways – at least no bed he could move by his own. So a mattress would have to be enough. Sam would sleep upstairs as always. And that Angel? Bobby wasn't sure if Angels needed to sleep but he figured he'd stay with Dean regardless of what the hunter would have planned.

That Angel… Bobby still didn't like him very much. But obviously Dean did. So the old hunter had to cope with his resentments. The older Winchester talked a lot about that guy. A lot. Bobby had always been good with people, knew what made them tick. And obviously he wasn't only an expert on knowing _people_. Because that Angel liked Dean too. A lot. The yearning glances full of longing would have been fitting for one of those awful Harlequin-novels his wife had used to read. Sometimes Bobby thought he'd get diabetes just from listening to that idjit talk about his Angel. How could someone be that blind – or ignorant – not to notice how desperately in love he was with somebody? Bobby had always known that boy was good at suppressing and bottling up each and every emotion but this...

When he finally heard the low rumble of the impala Bobby had not only managed to get the old mattress into the small closet but to adapt the entire ground floor to Dean's changed needs. And the fridge was well stocked with beer. And whiskey. As soon as he saw Sam behind the wheel of Dean's beloved car, as soon as he saw the Angel grip Dean's elbow and tenderly direct him to the porch, as soon as he saw Dean's white eyes, unseeing and blind, Bobby knew they'd need it. Badly.


	2. Sam

Having to take care of Dean like that was a first for Sam. His brother had been to hospitals countless times fighting for his live with Sam not able to do more than worry his ass off. Or the older Winchester had caught a nasty case of stomach flu or the sniffles so Sam had to look after his brother for two or three days. But now there was no end in sight - because there never was going to _be_ an end.

Sam fought hard to not let Dean feel his irritation. Watching his brother not being able to do the simplest of things like brew a cup of coffee or shower on his own was very hard. However Sam had to cope because Dean had to cope, too.

The older Winchester fought hard. Doggedly he dressed himself - ending up with wearing his shirt back to front or two unmatched socks - cleaned their weapons and decided where they'd have dinner. It nearly felt normal. But normal ended as soon as they entered the impala.

Although at first Dean was still bickering when they drove, making fun of Sam's way to drive and being a jerk in general, the younger Winchester noticed a change. How his brother became more and more silent. It was at the same time Sam had to acknowledge to himself that he had failed at his quest to recover Dean's sight and despair made itself at home in the backseat of the impala.

The younger Winchester had read countless sites about eye and brain surgery, had followed innumerable links promising miracle healing, had talked to specialists on either medical or supernatural fields beyond number. Nobody could help him. Nobody could get Dean to see again.

It was about that time when the nightmares started. At first Dean woke up whimpering, shaking from his bad dreams and Sam sat with him, talked until the sun rose again. But soon the real horror started. Dean cried, shouted, flailed and regardless of what the younger Winchester tried he was not able to calm his brother, to help him shake off the dream.

Before long sleep became dreaded because as soon as Dean closed his weary eyes the untold terrors that were just waiting outside of Sam's reach returned with full force. Staying in one motel for more than one night became impossible after one of Dean's nightmares. Sam knew they needed help. So he did the only thing he could, he reached for his cellphone.

Bobby told him to get their asses in gear and head over to his place. Unfortunately at that time they were nearly two thousand miles and more than 30 hours driving away. Luckily Castiel just appeared mere seconds after Sam told him where to find them. The Angel knew about Dean's sight. In fact he had been the first one to learn because Sam had still been hoping Castiel could somehow, miraculously have the means to heal his brother.

Castiel managed to pull Dean out of the nightmares. Each night he sat next to the older Winchester's bed waiting for Dean to start tossing about uneasily, restlessly. The first time Castiel took care of Dean Sam woke to his brother's cries to find the older Winchester in the Angel's arms, in a tight hug. Castiel was stroking Dean's back, mumbling something in Latin that sounded comfortably soothing and reassuring - the Lord's Prayer he noticed after listening a few moments. When Sam woke up again Dean was still sleeping with Castiel's hand on his forehead. The next night he didn't even hear his brother shout.

During the day the Angel was no where to be seen but as soon as Dean's head hit the pillow he was sitting next to the older Winchester like this had been his place from the beginning. Sam was endlessly grateful.

Coping with Bobby wasn't easy, the old hunter wanted to know everything whereas Sam really didn't want to talk about it. Again Castiel helped the younger Winchester out and talked to Bobby privately while Sam thought about ways to raise Dean's spirits.

Sam remembered his brother's last year on earth. How Dean wanted to celebrate Christmas together. His brother deemed highly of family. Bobby was family. Castiel undoubtedly too. But Sam wanted Dean to have a great Christmas, a remember able Christmas. Ellen, Jo, perhaps Chuck. He would have to talk to Bobby. There were enough spare rooms hidden behind countless stacks of books. He just needed to tell Bobby how Dean would jump for joy - hopefully - and the old hunter would give his blessings.

And because there wasn't much other to do Sam thought about how sacrificially Castiel took care of Dean. Ok, that guy was an Angel so one would think that behaviour should be normal but if Sam had learned one thing the last one and a half years it was that Angels were dicks. They were soldiers not valuing the live of one or two _thousand_ humans. So why would suddenly a single one of them matter enough to... to act like Castiel did. Because that Angel did not only take care of Dean, he cared _for_ Dean too. A lot - now that Sam pondered over it he could clearly see it. There was some kind of mutual... friendship? Attraction? How hot-headedly Dean defended Castiel every time somebody so much as looked askant at the Angel. How Castiel not only risked the wrath of his superiors by disobeying for Dean but his very existence, too. How Dean faced - and and also gave them a piece of his mind - two freaking _Archangels_ that where not treating Castiel the way Dean thought they should.

Ever since that episode with Dr. Sexy MD in TV-Land and Dean ogling at the guy like a teenage girl Sam had the strong suspicion of Dean swinging both ways. So it was at least not totally out of question for his brother to fall for an other guy. And judging by what the younger Winchester knew of Angels they were neither female nor male but just... nothing. Or both. Or something totally different. Oh, screw it! Sam was so going to hook them up with each other regardless of Castiel's sex or Dean's official orientation.

While planning their first large scale Christmas - and Dean's and Cas's first date - Sam noticed how drained Castiel looked. Each evening he popped in, sat down next to the mattress that was Dean's bed and allowed everybody a good night's sleep to simply vanish again as soon as Dean woke up in the morning. Of course Sam knew Angels didn't need to sleep or rest or recuperate. Still that was obviously exhaustion written all over Castiel in bright red letters. Confronted with Sam's observation the Angel simply answered before vanishing again: "I am looking for someone able to give Dean back his eyesight."


	3. Ellen

Of course Ellen agreed to spent the holidays at Bobby's. She really liked the boys and hearing about Dean's eyes hurt. Somewhere deep inside of her the urge to mother both Winchesters had always been present - something she would deny vehemently, of course. So indeed she didn't have to think twice about cramming her Christmas cook books and Jo inside her car the minute she put down the phone.

Seeing Dean wasn't very pleasant. That boy was bitter. Sam really tried hard to cheer his brother up but what surprised her more was that... Angel. Ellen still wasn't comfortably with the thought of having an actual Angel of the Lord around. But seeing him carrying food and water to Dean like an average underpaid waitress and trying to talk the stubborn Winchester into at least eating a spoon full of the stuff Bobby had cooked for dinner was... weird.

The Angel wasn't around much. Most part of the day he spent somewhere else - Sam had told her he was searching for a way to heal Dean's eyes but obviously the boy didn't believe that to work out himself. Whereas in the evening and during the night the Angel seemed to literally hover over Dean.

There was something in the way that alien being acted and clearly cared about the hunter that bothered her...

Ellen still remembered meeting the Angel for the first time quite vividly. A mid sized, ordinary guy wearing a tan trench coat and black suit both ill fitting and a tad too big for his slender frame. Hair slightly ruffled and tie partly undone as if he had just had a quickie with his secretary. It had been his eyes that gave the Angel away. A deep otherworldly blue, ice cold and burning with fire at the same time. A gaze so intense as if the being was looking not at Ellen's face but her very soul.

It had been a quick decision. Either fall for the Angel's awe-inspiring impression or challenge him headlong. Of course Ellen had taken the latter. She had felt anger rise and suddenly the bitter taste of loss had threatened to swallow her entirely.

"So, if you really are an Angel, that means there really is a God? Then tell me just one thing. Why does God allow good people to be killed? Why didn't he prevent the Apocalypse? What kind of God..."

Ellen had moved into the Angel's personal space filled with new found grieve about the loss of her husband whose death God perhaps hadn't exactly ordered but hadn't prevented either as the being interrupted her with a calm and gravel voice: "With free will comes responsibility. I am sorry for your loss..."

"Don't you dare feeling pity for me! You know nothing..."

"I do, I too have..."

"No, you have no idea..."

Perhaps Ellen would have succeeded in getting the Angel _really_ angry and being smitten - up until now she still wasn't quite sure what had made her explode into Castiel's face in the first place - luckily Dean had stopped her in advance. There had been something about the other hunter's stance... as if he had been trying to protect the Angel – protect an Angel of the Lord? A ridiculous thought. But still Dean had been there doing the exact thing."Ellen, knock it off!" The older Winchester had grabbed her arm and pulled her away, leaving a rapidly breathing Angel with death in his eyes behind.

Soon after Sam had filled her in. Told her about how the Angel had sacrificed himself for giving Dean a chance to stop the younger Winchester. How he had killed two of his brothers and challenged his former superior for them just hours later. He reported on enochian sigils carved deep in their rips, preventing all Angels from locating the Winchesters, on how Castiel had become an outcast, a renegade, hunted by all of Heaven and Hell. For humanity. For the Good Case. _For Dean._ Although the latter had not been voiced by Sam directly Ellen had not missed the subtext.

Now it was the second time they met. Ellen knew she had to make amends, make it up with Castiel. She wanted to help the poor guy because she knew Dean, knew that boy good enough to understand how he worked. And right now he was in denial. Of course getting blind was not a walk in the park. But he was a Winchester. He would suck it up eventually, would notice that life went on and you could have a good time without being able to see. Having a... a _partner_ would help. A lot. But first Ellen had to make sure she wasn't imagining things. And as a former bar owner she knew how to get men to talk about their feelings. She assumed Angels would work alike.

After Ellen had secured most of Bobby's stock on liquor it was quite easy to get the Angel to join her in the kitchen after the others had went to bed. She just had to tell him she wanted to talk about how to lighten Dean's mood.

"It is very important to understand how men work." She had said.

"So you really should try to at least get tipsy." She had said.

"We have enough alcohol here to even get an Angel like you drunk." She had said.

Well, right now she wasn't so sure anymore. Three empty bottles were standing next to them. Only two left. She had long ago discarded the shot glass and instead handed a normal sized tumbler filled to the rim with Tequila to the still sober Angel. Perhaps she should get him a straw?

Ellen had just opened the last bottle as suddenly Castiel raised his head, wonder and curiosity clearly showing in his blue eyes.

"I think I'm starting to feel something."

Oh, she really hoped it wasn't just a full bladder the Angel was experiencing for the first time.

"What's... what's this called?" He blinked two times before finally pointing at the now empty glass.

"Uhm..." Ellen turned to the bottle. She hadn't actually paid attention to what exactly she was filling the Angel's glass with."It's Absinthe."

"Oh..." Castiel tilted his head frowning at his glass as Ellen poured out the green liquid again. He licked his lips obviously not sure what to do.

"What's it? Spill it out, Cas."

Slowly the Angel raised his head and met her gaze. He did not so much as batter an eyelash on Ellen using that nickname for the first time."Dean told me to never drink Absinthe. He didn't say why. But it somehow was important enough for him to make me _promise_." He turned his head and looked at the bottle wistfully."I do like the taste."

"I sure as hell ain't gonna tell him."

The Angel's frown deepened. Ellen knew now she had him. Although Castiel was tipsy at best she was sure there wouldn't be a better opportunity anytime soon. "Come on, Cas. If you like the taste, drink it. Dean too drinks stuff he shouldn't but he does because he _likes_ it. You know that." Still he didn't answer. Half a minute later the Angel slowly shook his head and turned his gaze back at Ellen. "I can't..."

"Never mind," she mumbled before downing the glass herself. She was way too sober to start interrogating an Angel about his gay crush. Ellen did not miss how Castiel followed the glass as she raised it to her lips and the way he licked his lips as she swallowed the last bit of the green liquid could have been easily misinterpreted as something entirely different.

After a loud sigh she put the glass down again and met the Angel's eyes with a steady gaze. "He means a lot to you." Although Ellen waited for him to answer Castiel stayed silent, just stared at her in his unnerving, unblinking way. "You do mean a lot to him, too." Now there was a reaction. A blink slightly out of sequence. "I know Dean. You surely too, but I am a human. I think I understand a few things you just won't get. Not as long as you stay around those boys at least. Dean's very soft behind all those walls he's built up over the years. You probably know that, too. He's very careful to not let anybody see behind them. So he sometimes does dumb things. Really dumb things. Just because he thinks otherwise someone will find out what lies behind. See, I've got a daughter. And I think as a mom I have kind of a ladder to peek over most of the walls people build around them. Even over Dean's. And I've seen what is behind them. _Who_ is behind them."

Castiel was still staring at her. Did she just spot the hint of an emotion in those depths of blue? "In the past, there was just Sam but only lately he got company." Ellen too had her eyes firmly focused on her counterpart so she would not miss the stirring of... well, hopefully affection. "I'd really like to know how you feel about him."

The Angel's blank look became absent, longing as he dropped his gaze. Ellen was glad that for once Castiel stared at the table instead of her. She took a deep breath and relaxed a bit. Although she had the firm intention of giving the Angel all the time he needed to figure out what he really felt for Dean the silence was hard to take and weighted heavily on her. Ellen was about to ask Castiel anew as he finally looked up again, meeting her eyes and answered in Hebrew: "Ani ledodi vedodi li*."

It just took Ellen about five minutes to find the proper translation online.

* _Ani ledodi vedodi li - I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine; Song of Solomon 6:3 _


	4. Castiel

Castiel had been searching for hours but now he started to feel what the weather around him had been promising for quite a while. The sensation was new. And very unpleasant.

Cold. Chilly wind. Frigid air that pierced his vessel's skin, made his borrowed limbs frozen stiff, his steps awkward and ungainly. The severe cold stinging even through the protection his remaining Grace could grant. For the first time in his existence Castiel shivered. Violently. His movements were benumbed and he had long lost the feeling in his toes or fingers. He knew somewhere here had to be the single one person able and hopefully willing to help Castiel. Although there were others quite capable of answering his wish this was the one that wouldn't kill him on sight. Probably.

But Castiel had no other choice. Dean would get his eyesight back. He had sworn an oath and even if it meant his death... The Angel forcibly brought his attention back to his environments. Somewhere here... White snow covered all and everything. White ground. White hills. White sky. White... foot prints?! There were tracks leading to a faraway place. Puzzled he followed them hoping he would reach his destination before freezing to death – could an Angel freeze to death? A few hours ago he would have negated with conviction. Now his blue fingers bore witness to something entirely different.

The clatter of Castiel's teeth was the only sound besides the howl of the relentless wind, He was sure he was no longer alone. Somewhere near – really near – had to be the subject of his frantic search. The bitter cold penetrating his entire vessel, threatening to turn his very core into solid ice was a broad hint.

Behind the next hill Castiel found an igloo. The marks in the white snow ended abruptly a few meters away. As a chill wind was getting up, rising by the second the Angel knew he would not last much longer without shelter. Cautiously he approached the small building, battling against the building storm that threatened to blow his fragile vessel away.

Inside it was warm. Well, not exactly warm, the temperature still was very low but it was clearly warmer than outside. A table and two chairs all entirely made of snow and ice were the only furnishing. Castiel sighed. He was sick and tired of theses games. "Gabriel. I know you are here. Show yourself."

The air flickered and a heartbeat later one of the chairs was occupied by the Archangel who held a steaming mug in gloved hands. "Hi Cas. Think we've been interrupted yesterday. Sit down and have a natter." Gabriel was smiling mischievously at his younger brother and took a sip waiting for Castiel to take a seat. "Ah, I love hot toddies. Sometimes I really have to admire humankind's richness of ideas. I believe a lot of problems up in Heaven could have been avoided by things like this."

"I do not believe alcoholic beverage would contribute to restoring peace in Heaven." Castiel deadpanned eying his brother surly. "I do believe yesterday we have been interrupted quite rudely and all of a sudden. If you don't mind I would like to continue our conversation." Although the Angel's voice was stoic and calm as ever it demanded a great deal of Castiel. He was tired, cold and very, _very_ angry.

"Sure, Cas. Shoot."

The blue eyed Angel had just opened his mouth as his older brother interrupted him disrespectfully. "Are you cold? Your nose is really red... Perhaps you should try wearing something else than your strange trench coat when we meet in Alaska? I've never thought you were a sandwich short of a picnic..."

Castiel took a deep breath before trying to speak again. "Gabriel. As I have already told you I require your assistance. Dean Winchester has been injured. He is no longer able to see and..."

Again Gabriel prevented his brother from invoking his help properly. "I'd really love to know why the heck you think I'm gonna help you. You know, after our little encounter recently. Why don't you just make him say yes to Mike? He will fix his eyes instantly."

"Gabriel. Please. I beg you..."

"Oh, sorry, bro, I'm late. See ya!"

Luckily Castiel's scream of rage made only the igloo collapse as there was no other building anywhere near.

~*~

When the Angel returned to Bobby's just in time to help Dean with his dinner he felt more weary than ever. He knew his brother was teasing him, playing his stupid game. How could he get Gabriel to understand how important eyes were for a hunter? How could he make it clear to his brother that Dean could not continue like this? Gabriel still did not understand that neither Winchester would willingly become a vessel...

Carefully Castiel carried the steaming bowl with rich soup to Dean's closet. He knew his friend wouldn't even eat half of it. Still he did not have the heart to bring less than a normal sized serving. He slowly sat down next to the hunter who was lying on the bed unmoving, eyes closed. As always Dean did not even acknowledge Castiel's presence until the Angel addressed him.

"Dean. I brought your dinner. Please sit up so I can assist you."

"'m not hungry, Cas."

Although the Angel tried to take a deep breath he could not entirely get rid of his frustration. Every day the same struggle. Every time Dean persisted in claiming he wasn't hungry. Again and again Castiel had to persuade him. Anger slipped into his voice and made the Angel growl at Dean: "Dean, do not make me..."

Hastily the hunter interrupted him: "Calm down, Cas. No need to get all smite-y..." He sat up with a grunt and came to a rest next to Castiel, their legs touching. "Had a rough day, huh?"

"You might say that."

Castiel watched the hunter narrowly. He was different today. His soul still shone brightly but his aura had taken a different tinge. There were hints of worry and concern. A slightly blue smell underlying the fresh metallic taste of radiused bitterness. The Angel tilted his head in concentration and confusion likewise. "You are worried about _me_."

Had getting angry at him been all Castiel needed to do to get Dean out of his stupor? The Angel was baffled.

"How many times have you brought me dinner? Never ever so much as raised your voice at me giving you shit. And now you just exploded... Sorry Cas. I know I've been an ass the last... days? Weeks? You've just tried to..." Dean run his hand over his face looking for the right words.

Castiel knew him well enough to be aware of what his friend was about to say and stifled a heavy sigh. At least Dean was talking again...

"Look, this really is running me down. I can't see for god's sake! How am I supposed to hunt? How am I supposed to stop Lucifer? How? The only way is by saying yes. You know that. I know that. Heck, we all know it but nobody dares to bring it up. I just haven't had the courage to..."

"Dean. No. I am already working on a solution. I just need more time. Please do not abandon yourself in despair. I promise you will be able to see again. Just... give me a few more days." Castiel's borrowed heart was in his mouth, beating frantically. Dean even thinking about giving himself to Michael bore witness to how hopeless the hunter must feel. Castiel really did not want to think about losing him. The mental image of Michael looking like Dean hurt more than Uriel's betrayal had.

"Ok." The hunter mumbled suddenly exhausted. "Just help me with dinner, ok?"

~*~

Later that evening Ellen wanted to discuss something with Castiel. She talked the Angel into letting the beverage she offered him also affect him and eventually Castiel blamed solely the alcohol induced buzz for the things he gave away. It was still dark outside, purple colored clouds trying to hide the moon, only a few stars visible, as the Angel sat down on Bobby's porch. The chill December air was hot compared to the temperature Castiel had had to endure earlier that day. Now that he had finally classified his feelings for Dean suddenly he knew how he would be able to get Gabriel to help him. He just had to find his brother anew.

~*~

The next days Dean wasn't exactly back to his old self but there was enough improvement even the Angel noticed the better mood of all humans surrounding the hunter. They were busily following those strange traditions regarding Christmas. Jo and Bobby cleaning up the entire house, well the ground floor at least, Sam had gotten a conifer and two dusty boxes filled with glittery... things - pure unadulterated kitsch according to Bobby, Sam explained them as Christmas tree ornaments and Dean simply called the stuff crap. The tall hunter spent an entire day decorating the dead tree with all kinds of... ornaments. And on top of the tree went a beautiful star made of thin painted glass Sam seemed particularly fond of.

Castiel watched hidden inside the shadows how the humans were busily preparing everything for the coming holidays. He still did not entirely understand the finer details of the tradition but it was invigorating to watch them doing something with newly found energy, to see the smiles full of anticipation. The Angel witnessed something entirely different, too. When Sam believed himself unwatched he kicked the small ladder he had used earlier this day to finish decorating the conifer so it went flying at the tree. While some of the filigree ornaments shattered on the floor – like the nice star – the hunter groaned in pain and swiftly lay down on the floor.

While the Angel was still wondering what had happened in the last few seconds, he noticed Jo was watching from the kitchen, too. She stood unmoving and silently, just looking. Castiel tilted his head in confusion and studied her true self. There was not even a whiff of worry, just the freckled color of hardly stifled amusement. He turned to the lying hunter again and examined his soul. Sam was not hurt. Not a tiny bit. His light still shone bright as always. Next to him Ellen was down on her knees, talking to him like to an injured animal. Calming, soothing, _frantic_. As finally Dean hurried into the room, as fast as his handicapped senses allowed the Angel finally got it. They were performing some strange kind of act. For some reason that defied any explanation all four wanted Dean to believe his brother was injured. The older Winchester's soul pulsed with worry and concern. Thick waves of care lapped around Castiel's feet and not for the first time he wondered if he ever would understand humankind.

~*~

Two days later when Castiel and Dean ended up doing the Winchester's Christmas shopping because Sam had to stay in bed due to a "concussion" at least the Angel knew what the point of this strange play had been – although he still did not comprehend why they hadn't simply asked Castiel and Dean to do the shopping together.

The setting sun shone brightly, casting a golden light onto the city that was caught in most of the shop windows surrounding them. The moon was already visible and the winter cold made their breath visible as tiny white puffs. The Angel felt how his vessel's nose slowly took a red tinge and allowed that reaction to the chill air to happen.

Castiel saw mothers with their excited children watching the richly decorated windows of toy shops. He noticed lovers share bags of sweet chestnut and felt an unfamiliar ache deep inside his chest as he looked at all these humans content and happy, savoring those peaceful moments in their all too short lives. And suddenly the Angel wished he could hold Dean's hand just as the couple next to them was.

"Cas...", the hunter's gruff voice pulled Castiel out of his daydream.

He turned immediately back to his friend a concerned frown on his face. "Dean?" The Angel watched as the hunter nervously adjusted the broad ribbon around his right upper arm identifying him as visually impaired. The next moment Dean sighed and suddenly grabbed Castiel's elbow, linked arms with the Angel and muttered: "Don't even think about telling Sam..."

Although Castiel was the one supposed to guide Dean he felt as if he was the one being lead into some kind of wonderland. Because that Christmas market was something entirely otherworldly.

~*~

It was hot. The sun shining brilliantly in the cloudless sky, broiling and blazing. Castiel stood on a high plain somewhere in Australia. If he had cared he instantly would have known his exact whereabouts but it was way too warm to pay attention. The Angel felt torrid, his brain smoldered and every drop of sweat his host managed to produce was vaporized the second it surfaced.

Castiel had long ago shed his coat and suit jacket. The dark trousers were heated up to a point where the simple touch threatened to burn his vessel's skin so the Angel opened his belt and slowly stripped of the black pants. Exhausted he continued his search for the Archangel. Castiel knew he had to be near his target because of his reaction to the weather – Gabriel really liked to screw with his brother.

The Angel stumbled and found himself on hands and knees, blood slowly seeping in the ground where a sharp stone had cut through his skin.

"Hey, bro. Glad you could make it!"

Castiel looked up and noticed he was no longer in an empty wasteland. Now there was some kind of vacation resort around him. Next to the pool where the puzzled Angel was currently kneeling, on a deck chair he could see Gabriel sprawled. The Archangel was sipping a cocktail decorated with a tiny umbrella and a slice of lemon. A huge yellow and red sunshade blocked parts of the scorching heat and cast Gabriel and Castiel in blissful shadows.

"Gabriel", the Angel said and felt how his dry lips cracked open.

"Hurry up, Cas. I've got an appointment in..." The Archangel looked at his nonexistent watch, "... in two minutes."

Castiel followed his brother's gaze and saw a curvaceous brunet leave the main building and head towards the pool. He stifled a frustrated groan and turned to his brother again. "As I said I need your help."

"And as I already said I don't wanna help. Give me one good reason why I should heal Mike's meatsuit."

"Because I am in love with Dean."


	5. Dean

Bumping into countless stuff and stubbing his toe every few minutes wasn't the worst about being blind. Even as he noticed after a week or so that counting everything (two steps from the door to the bed, three steps from the bed to the window, ten steps from the kitchen to the bathroom, one step from the john to the...) was futile. With them changing motels every few days he had no opportunity to memorize each and every distance until they had to leave again. The worst thing about being blind wasn't even the realization that he could no longer hunt. That he was even more useless than Bobby - who could still do research or aim a freaking rifle. No. Definitely the worst thing about being blind were the nightmares.

They came suddenly, sneaking into his dreams, gripping him tightly and threatening to drown him. When he woke up there was no light to chase them away. No sight of a crappy motel, his brother sleeping in the other bed, the cheap curtains not able to keep out the light of the neon signs in the parking lot. Nothing to ground him in reality again. Just darkness. Never ending, perpetual darkness.

In the non-light of his existence things were lurking. Waiting for him to turn away, to show even a tiny sign of weakness they could use, explore, pick and poke until he opened up, let them all in. Devouring his soul, spreading the disease of despair and apathy, gnawing away the last strands of hope, of _family_.

Somewhere on the outer periphery he noticed they had crashed at Bobby's. He even was aware of Ellen and Jo at some point joining them. But the only thing, the only _one_ that really managed to penetrate the thick veil of bitterness was Castiel. The Angel shone like a bright light in Dean's everlasting night. He dispelled the monsters and creatures lurking in the vicinity and made even the nightmares stop.

Dean was too occupied with his own struggle against the darkness within to notice in time. He needed the Angel to nearly explode into his own face before he became aware of the tiny and subtle changes that had happened while he had been... away.

Castiel sounded tired, weary and exhausted. He had never heard something like that in the gravel voice he had learned to associate with fortitude, tranquility and potency. Now there was a timbre of worry, fatigue and ...anger? Dean recalled the past few days and came to the conclusion that he had been anything but nice to his Angel.

_His Angel_. When had he started to think about Cas as _his_ Angel? Dean could not remember but somehow it sounded right. _His Angel_. The thought made something warm blossom inside his belly. And Dean smiled. For the fist time in more than a month.

Dean recalled Castiel bringing him dinner, talking him into at least eating a few spoons full of whatever Bobby had whipped up. There had been more than one conversation where the hunter had used words that surely had hurt the Angel. But there had never been even a bit of reaction from Castiel's side. Up until now.

"Dean, do not make me..." There was more anger in the Angel's voice than Dean had ever noticed. He hurried to soothe his friend's feeling more guilty than anxious. Of course Castiel was a freaking Angel of the Lord but if he'd wanted to smite Dean he surely would have done it 'til now. The hunter sat up next to his friend and felt how the heat of the Angel's body warmed their touching legs. Dean was not really cold, at least not on the outside. But the body warmth of the other man sitting so close made the cold spot inside the hunter shrink, replaced it with contentment.

"Had a rough day, huh?"

"You might say that."

In the Angel's voice there was so much emotion packed into those few words Dean had no need to see his friend's face to know about the frown firmly in place, the eyes looking slightly red trimmed and the tin line of his lips pressed together in annoyance.

There was a long silence and suddenly Dean remembered a similar situation longer than a year ago. In the barn where Bobby and he had summoned Castiel for the first time. He recalled a tilted head and blue eyes that bore into his skull, browsed through his memories and dug up his deepest secrets.

"You are worried about _me_."

Dean sighed. He had been right - Cas had been reading his mind again. And he knew he had to stop being a selfish prick, he had to start doing something again. Castiel had sacrificed so much for him and although Dean knew he was not worthy of anything the Angel was willing to give to him the hunter wanted at least to give something in return.

Perhaps if he eventually managed to find the courage to call Zachariah and tell him Michael could ride his skin than at least there would be someone able to kill Lucifer. And if he told Zach that would only happen on the condition that Castiel would be reintegrated into the Heavenly Host, his offenses forgotten, his disobedience forgiven...

But Castiel interrupted the hunter before he even could voice his plan properly, anger, worry and alarm in each of his words.

"Dean. No. I am already working on a solution. I just need more time. Please do not abandon yourself in despair. I promise you will be able to see again. Just... give me a few more days."

Dean didn't know what to say. So he stuck to the nearest: "Ok. Just help me with dinner, ok?"

~*~

Dean still was not sure how Sam had managed to fall off the ladder while decorating their Christmas tree and get a fucking concussion but both Bobby and Ellen were sure his brother just needed to stay put a few days without any permanent injuries. So the older Winchester ended up having to do the Christmas shopping with Castiel. That alone sounded like a bad joke. But without being able to see it was bound to go wrong.

Ellen had dropped them off near a Christmas market and promised to come back in about three hours to pick them up again. They were standing on the sidewalk, Dean could hear cars passing by, a child was squeaking something unintelligible. There were the sounds of people talking. Someone was laughing in the distance. A bike drove by, ringing its bell a few times. Dean heard an old dodge with a broken carburetor and someone jostled him rudely to the left. The hunter really wanted to be anywhere but here.

Suddenly inside Dean the fear that Castiel had left him standing there alone gripped his heart and made his breath speed up.

"Cas...", he sounded whiny and gruff but the hunter needed to hear his friend's voice right the fuck now.

"Dean?"

Although the older Winchester could not see the Angel's face he knew Castiel would be watching him closely. He did not want to give away how vulnerable he felt. Dean nervously fingered that stupid ribbon Ellen had insisted he wore around his right upper arm identifying him as visually impaired. Visually impaired. Blind. How did those people cope?

Dean sighed heavily. He knew what he had to do. And even if he deep down inside was totally ok with him linking arms with his Angel he at least had to keep up appearances.

"Don't even think about telling Sam..."

~*~

Shopping was actually quite nice. Castiel was next to him all the time. He could feel the heat of the Angel's body... vessel. As if there was too much Angel cooped up inside the tiny human shell and the spare energy had to dissolve somehow... or something like that. Dean had never been good with physics other than the stuff he needed for hunting. However there was a lot of warmth radiating from Castiel and Dean liked it.

They took their time, slowly walking from booth to booth – wooden as Castiel pointed out – looking at... eyeing... whatever. Cas was drinking in the sight of each decorated stand reporting everything meticulously to the hunter. Dean had never thought there would be such a vast assortment of Christmas tree decorations available. Made of glass, mouth-blown, plastic, filigree, painted, etched, engraved, gilded, and a thousand more varieties Dean had forgotten the moment Cas had mouthed the next option.

That was something Dean had noticed about being blind and actually liked. His other senses were hypersensitive. At least he had that impression... He heard every little hitch Castiel's breath made as soon as the hunter gripped his arm tighter. He smelled the fine nuance of flowery soap mixed with honey the Angel was emitting. He felt every crease in that ugly trench coat that somehow made Dean at ease even if he wasn't able to see the boring beige colored thing.

Dean didn't miss the exited quiver in Castiel's voice as the Angel announced he had found the perfect present for Sam.

"What is it?"

"It is an ornament. A beautiful angel that is to be put on the very top of a tree – if I am not mistaken. Sam's star shattered as he fell."

With a lopsided grin Dean stated: "That made sense to me – should I be worried?"

As if Castiel hadn't heard his friend he continued: "The angel as a silvery blue dress and her wings are shining in countless colors. She has brilliant fair hair... This angel reminds me of Porna."

As soon as the hunter had heard the name he couldn't help it. Dean erupted in loud laughter – because seriously? Who the fuck named a freaking Angel _Porna_?!

~*~

Castiel actually managed to find stuff for everyone - although fake license plate and horn for Bobby's wheelchair was Dean's idea. Who had thought the Angel capable of coming up with really good ideas? Dean was glad because all he normally could think of were things like shampoo, skin mags or sweets - nothing he would dare to give Jo - or god forbid Ellen!

So the hunter could thoroughly enjoy their little trip to the Christmas market. Although he was sure Castiel too liked how they'd spent their evening as Dean persuaded him to buy some sweet chestnut for the two of them to share he knew now the Angel was happy to the core.

Castiel _loved_ the chestnuts. Dean had the suspicion he mojo'd the shell away because the Angel literally devoured them, way faster than anyone would be able to peel. The hunter considered himself lucky to get one piece before he had the great idea to buy them another bag - and let Cas feed him.

Dean knew he was grinning like a lunatic, listening to the content noises his Angel made each time he bit into a sweet chestnut, waiting for his friend to feed him another piece... Friend... Did friends do that kinda stuff? Dean wasn't sure but right now there was something inside his chest, warm, growing, threatening to burst through his ribs that made his entire being light up with joy and he really didn't care.

He didn't even care as he heard Ellen's voice just a few feet to their left, he didn't care that she surely must have seen his dopey grin, his arm snug around Castiel's waist or his lips touching Cas's fingers as he carefully fed Dean the last of their chestnuts. The older Winchester didn't care - because he was in love.


	6. Gabriel

Gabriel was speechless. For the first time in his existence the Archangel was at a lack of words. Castiel, his baby-brother was in love. That alone was astonishing as the concept of human feelings was an entire galaxy away from how Angels experienced emotions. But his little brother was in love with one of Them. With Michael's vessel much less.

At first he had thought it was just a phase Castiel was gong through. But then again his brother was no one for a quick roller coaster ride of emotions. Everything about Cas was meticulous thought out, pondered, and audited. So if his brother thought he was in love he actually _was_ in love.

Gabriel had to make sure the older Winchester was treating his kid-brother right. Otherwise or if he was just fooling around the Archangel would show the hunter the wrath of the Heavens.

Although Dean was just a man Gabriel had to be stealthier than in a long time. First of all there were five experienced hunters inside the building the Winchesters were currently hiding. Secondly his own brother although cut off from Heaven was still more than capable of sensing his presence if Gabriel wasn't careful enough and last but not least he knew they had all of Heaven on their heels and the Archangel really didn't want one of his brothers to find Castiel and his buddies - or even himself.

Gabriel was used to taking a look at the subject of his question and knowing the answer in an instant. This time acquiring knowledge prove to be much more difficult. His brother had shielded Dean from his kin. The Archangel needed to get really close to become aware of the different time lines crossing, of the Winchester's soul and his raging emotions.

Gabriel carefully picked a moment where both Angel and hunter had let their guards down. Dean had fallen asleep on Castiel's shoulder, snoring softly, one hand curled around his... _friend's_. The Angel too had closed his eyes, let his head rest softly on Dean's, inhaling the hunter's scent with each breath.

Of course as an Angel Castiel did not sleep but Gabriel knew what being cut off from heaven did to one's reserves. The lesser Angel was bathing in the contentment of the moment as if in the cool well of spring water, refreshing, rejuvenating, recharging his batteries as a human would say.

Gabriel liked mankind with his flowery speech and colorful expressions. Unlike most of his brothers and sisters he always had thought highly of their Father's latest piece of art, the summit of creation.

He had always loved the way humans spent their spare time, stories, books, _television._ Mankind owned something immensely valuable. They had creativity and humor. Two traits the Angels lacked badly. All, except Gabriel and now Castiel, too.

Gabriel watch his brother and his charge sitting on the old mattress in the little chamber the hunter was now residing in. He noticed the content smile on Dean's face, witnessed his dream centering about a trip both had made earlier this week. The Archangel had watched from afar as he had for the better part of two months now, preventing the other Angels from finding Castiel and his new found friends. But the scene Dean was dreaming about had _not_ happened like this. The Archangel was quite sure. Although he had been a little bit distracted from time to time and not monitored each and every second hunter and Angel had spent together Gabriel was sure he would have noticed his brother ripping his clothes of in the middle of the Christmas market. The Archangel was positive Castiel had not let Dean caress his wings like that. And he too was dead certain his brother had not reached a rather impressive sexual climax by the hunter touching only the bird-like white wings shattering each and every object made of glass within sight.

With a frown Gabriel exited Dean's dream. This was a side of their growing relationship he actually did _not_ want to see – despite his curiosity. The Archangel still wanted both Winchesters to devote themselves to Heaven, to agree to becoming vessels. But now whatever Dean and Castiel had was a obstacle Gabriel did not know how to react to. He still liked the other Angel despite his bigotry, contractedness and narrow mindedness and hurting Castiel was the last thing on Gabriel's mind – at least hurting him emotionally. He had to acknowledge flinging his little brother into walls and humiliating him had been quite fun. But snagging away the Angel's first love would be plain cruel.

Gabriel sighed. Heavily. And in the next moment Castiel's eyes were open, scanning the room, examining the exact spot the Archangel had been hiding a heartbeat ago.

~*~

So, Gabriel would help getting rid of Dean's little handicap. He just didn't know how to carry that out. But the Archangel was anything but shiftless. He would find a way to not only get off on embarrassing his brother and his playmate in front of the other hunters. If Gabriel played his cards right he was confident in the end he would get exactly what he wanted. Peace among his brothers.

~*~

It was the day before Christmas eve as Gabriel decided to visit Sam in his dreams. He formed the landscape to resemble a Christmas-themed amusement park – for adults. The elves were wearing a short green outfit that would not have felt out of place at the Bunny Ranch and the Santas too were female and at a serious lack of clothing. The Archangel saw how the hunter stopped dead in his tracks, frowned and searched the vicinity. That boy really was good.

Gabriel stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself and waited for Sam to walk up to him. Meanwhile he corrected a few slips he had made. Like making a candy apple appear in his right hand. He did not manage to eat more than a few bites before the hunter closed up with him.

"Gabriel!" Sam's voice was anything but pleased.

"What a joyful reunion. I'm please to see you, too." The Archangel grinned broadly before reminding himself to play nice and cutting back a bit.

"You know, now I'm telling you to get lost and leave my dream and you're answering you are an Angel and won't leave because I say so. So perhaps we could skip that and get directly to the point where you tell me why you are invading my privacy with your display of frivolous fantasy. Okay?"

"Sam, Sam, Sam." Gabriel shook his head while his grin broadened further. "You are quite a... Sorry, yeah, you are right." The Archangel straightened himself in mock sobriety. "We are here for serious business. As the surroundings might imply. So, you and your brother are willing to become vessels yet?"

The young hunter didn't answer, he only glared.

"Thought so...", Gabriel muttered. "Well, you guys happen to have a problem I might prove useful in solving for you. If you are by any change interested in me helping you." He shrugged nonchalantly and waited for Sam's reaction.

The human simply clenched his teeth.

"Dean? His eyes? You must have noticed by now that he isn't exactly seeing much nowadays..."

"I know damn well my brother is blind, no thanks to you!"

"I could change that."

"To what price? Me and Dean surrendering to your lot? No, thank you. If Dean decided to become Michael's vessel he would be healed anyway – not that it would do him much good with having his brains burned out by an Archangel. I think we'll pass."

"And if I told you that wouldn't be the condition for me helping?"

Sam frowned and Gabriel knew now he had the hunter. "What are you thinking about?"

The Archangel shrugged in mock indifferentism before answering: "I don't know... Let's just say you owe me? And I might come up with a request at some point in the future. But nothing like becoming vessels."

"That request of yours wouldn't involve something that meant our certain death?"

Gabriel grimaced, pulling the corners of his mouth down, shrugging and shaking his head at once. "No...? I don't know but it wouldn't be much more dangerous than the stuff you are doing on a per diem basis."

Sam was thinking about the offer. The Archangel was confident the hunter wouldn't dare to throw away the only chance his brother had to regain his sight. He just didn't know if the amount of persuasion had been enough.

"Ok." Sam sighed heavily. "Ok. I'll do it. I'll make that deal."

"Wanna seal it with a kiss?" Gabriel grinned mockingly but suddenly something tried to pull him out of the hunter's dream. He had to hurry up. "Just kidding, Sammyboy! Just... don't forget to hang up a mistletoe! Oh and by the way, this conversation was private. Don't tell everybody, I've got a reputation to preserve."

The Archangel allowed the presence to draw him from the dream scape he had created and found himself face to face to a furious Castiel.

"What do you think you were doing inside Sam's brain?! Leave the Winchesters alone! They are under my protection!"

The lesser Angel was in Gabriel's face, seriously invading his personal space, radiating fiery waves of anger and Archangel or not Gabriel had to acknowledge his little brother looked rather intimidating that way.

"Calm down, sport! My intentions were thoroughly virtuous. By the way... What if I decided to help your buddy? What if I restored Dean's sight?"

That stole Castiel's thunder very effectively and made the other Angel not only retreat one step but tilt his head in that odd birdlike fashion that never failed to make Gabriel want to burst into a giggle fit.

"Then I would be in your debt."

"Ok. Just don't forget if I come to collect sometime in the future."

Castiel nodded solemnly and Gabriel had to smile. Now it was time for the fun part. "Sit down and let me tell you what you have to do to heal Dean's eyes."


	7. Jo

After Ellen told her Jo easily noticed all the little things normally only done by couples.

How Castiel always made sure whatever they had for dinner it was not only something Dean liked but there had to be enough vegetables in disguise in it, too.

How the Angel even tied Dean's shoes - so different to how the hunter used to do it himself. Gingerly, carefully and neatly.

How the Angel looked after the hunter's clothes, fixing small holes and frayed hems on Dean's favorite shirts. Even if it meant Castiel had to sit hunched over for the better part of the night using what was left of his strained Grace.

How the Angel did some kind of Heavenly magic and got the hunter not only to eat more that one or two bites again but to come out of his cabinet and slowly become his former self once more.

How after dinner Castiel took a napkin and carefully cleaned the spatter of meat sauce off Dean's chin that everybody hat noticed with a grin but nobody had found worth mentioning.

How the Angel took the hunter's hand, guided him to the porch and described the winter scenery covered in snow that spread for miles with more words than he had spoken to anyone else the entire day.

How Dean not only persuaded the Angel to sit down with them but to have actual dinner.

How the older Winchester made sure that after it became clear that Castiel wasn't the coffee drinking kind of Angel Jo bought a variety of different tea flavors specially for Castiel.

~*~

Jo really was happy for Dean. Although she felt a little bit sad, too. Years ago, when she had first met the hunter she had been mesmerized by his charm and good looks and fallen head over heels for him. Now she was older, more mature and knew it would never have worked. Still a tiny part of her heart regretted the missed chance.

She admired Sam for how he dedicated himself to the cause of hooking his brother up with the secluded Angel. For him it must have been even harder to acknowledge Dean's love for another person and the necessity to let his big brother finally go.

~*~

Sam's plan was a good one although the way he wanted to knock himself out was plainly dumb. Unfortunately Jo herself didn't have any better idea. At least none that would fool a hunter not capable of seeing and be excuse enough for Sam to not be able to leave the house for about a week.

Faking a cold or even flu was out of the question. Dean would instantly hear that Sam's coughs and sneezes were forced.

Faking fever the common way with makeup was fruitless.

Faking a batch of stomach flu would fail because the retching Sam manage sounded plainly false.

Faking a minor accident that would cause a concussion seemed to be the easiest way. Both brothers had had that particular injury often enough for Sam to know exactly what symptoms he should pretend to have and for Dean not to freak out because his brother was hurt.

~*~

The week before Christmas everything was thought through and they proceeded to action on a snowy afternoon.

Sam was quite upset as he damaged one of the Christmas decorations in the process of falling but Jo thought the sound of shattering glass just added to the realism of the accident.

Dean was convinced and if Castiel had a hunch he at last wasn't acting on it.

~*~

Jo did not know what had happened on that afternoon Dean and Castiel went to the Christmas market but as they returned things had considerably changed. Their plan had been a complete success. The way hunter and Angel treated each other had become even more intense and fondly. When Jo caught them holding hands she did not believe her eyes – Dean Winchester holding hands? Normally she'd say that was a sure sign of the Apocalypse...

~*~

On Christmas Eve they were sitting together in Bobby's living room, exchanging stories, drinking a rich bourbon and enjoying being together.

Bobby told them how he and his wife had bought the property planning to have children soon, planting vegetables and spices next to various kinds of flowers the old hunter no longer remembered the names.

Ellen joined in, talked about Bill, the loving husband and father who was so fond of riding that he planned to get horses as soon as Jo would have been old enough to care for her own pony.

Dean's talk about his father made John Winchester, the stubborn but righteous, the cold but caring, the angry but likable hunter revive once again.

Sam told them about his plan to ask for Jessica's hand, about how he had everything planned, about the ring still hidden beneath the baseboard of their old kitchen as the flat was destroyed by the fire.

Jo chose to share how she decided to become a hunter after the death of her dad, angry, determined and funereal.

Castiel painted with his grave voice a quite vivid picture of the Heavens, his home he was never again to lay eyes upon.

Bittersweet memories shared by warriors in the reprieve of a horrible war. Nobody was under the illusion that they all would make it through alive. Perhaps this was their last chance to experience something like that together. Everybody knew they could be already dead before the end of the year. Still they did not let it diminish the moment, used that knowledge to experience this shared time even more intensively.

In the background all candles on the Christmas tree were alit, casting the room in soft light.

~*~

The air smelled of pastries, still warm cookies, honey and cinnamon. The scent of her childhood's Christmases. A plate of Brownies, Snickerdoodles, peanut butter cookies and gingerbread men decorated with raisins was on the table next to the Angel who was currently munching on one of the cookies with a slight frown while Sam busily rearranged the last presents beneath the tree under Ellen's supervision.

Jo sat down next to Castiel wondering where Bobby and Dean were as Castiel suddenly stated out of the blue: "He didn't come."

She turned her head shooting the Angel a questioning look and raising her eyebrows.

"Santa Claus."

Jo was totally taken aback by the Angel's answer and it took her a few seconds before she could form a somewhat coherent reply: "Don't tell me... Do you really believe in Santa?"

"I have no knowledge of the creature you refer to as 'Santa Claus' existing. Still Dean told me to watch out for him."

"And...?" she asked not sure where this conversation was heading.

"I stood sentinel the entire night. Nobody tried to enter the building through the chimney. And nobody got stuck inside of it. Don't you think it is very unadvised to try to break into someone's domicile by trying to squeeze oneself into a chimney soiled with soot? What should this Santa Claus do if there is a fire burning? And how does he enter more modern buildings lacking this facilities?"

Jo put a hand on Castiel's arm stopping the rambling Angel. She was smiling softly as she tried to explain that particular belief: "Castiel, it's a story we tell little children. Nobody questions this things because either you are to young to think about stuff like that or you are old enough and already know Santa isn't real."

"Dean told me to watch out so that Santa Claus doesn't..." The Angel started confused.

"So that his fat ass doesn't get stuck and we have to free him to get our presents," Dean's cheerful voice interrupted Castiel. "Don't tell me you've been keeping guard the entire night, Cas!"

The Angel scrutinized the hunter, his head slightly tilted, a frown on his face, obviously confused and Jo wondered what Dean had been doing that he needed to keep his friend away. Probably wrapping up a present?

~*~

As finally everybody had found his or her way to the living room the handing out of presents started. Although Jo tried to pay attention to who got what from whom she soon was busily unwrapping boxes herself no longer able to keep track of everything else. There was even proper wrapping paper with ribbons and glitter, no old newspapers or leaflets.

Bobby smirked as he unwrapped the bumper sticker Jo got him for his wheelchair. It was blue and said in fat yellow letters "Don't like my driving... Dial 1-800-EAT-SHIT."

Sam beamed as he opened the little box he got from Castiel and pulled a fragile angel out – he immediately placed it on the top of the Christmas tree.

Ellen gave Bobby a balance wheel for the broken watch in the hunter's sleeping room – and Jo really did _not_ want to know how her mother knew of that clock no longer working.

Dean's face became bright red as he tried to hide the present he just got from Sam so nobody would be able to take a closer look at the colorful bottle Jo knew contained pie flavored lube – you really could buy strange stuff on the internet.

Castiel clumsily opened the wrapping paper covering the blue dressing gown Jo and Ellen had chosen for the Angel and frowned confused at the article of clothing until Jo helped him out of his trench coat and suit jacket and into the new gown. She had to bite back a snicker, now Castiel no longer looked even remotely like an Angel.

Bobby got a licence plate and horn for his wheelchair from Dean that left the old hunter shaking with laughter and wheezing for air.

The last present was a slim envelope that had been sent per mail and just received yesterday. 'From Chuck', 'For Dean'. The Angel glanced inside, whispered something in the hunter's ear and Dean promptly closed it again to store it in his back pocket refusing to tell anybody what the Prophet had sent.

They were about to leave for the kitchen and the sweetly smelling cookies as Sam cleared his throat and pulled a branch of mistletoe from his jacket. He used his towering height to hold it above Dean's head who was currently standing next to Castiel, holding the Angels hand, waiting for his friend to lead him into the kitchen.

Jo noticed how Castiel studied the branch with his head slightly tilted as Sam stated: "Dean, you are currently standing underneath a mistletoe..." As his brother didn't react other than frowning Sam added: "With Castiel..."

"I do believe it is a custom that any two people who meet under a hanging mistletoe at Christmas are obliged to kiss," Castiel stated after a few further moments of silence.

Jo was not entirely sure but she thought she saw sudden insight in Castiel's eyes as he slowly turned to Dean.

"Cas, that's a dumb folkway – a _human_ folkway. You are not 'obliged' to kiss any..." the rest was swallowed by Castiel's mouth as the Angel pulled the hunter in for a determined kiss.

At first Dean was fighting back – apparently Dean wasn't ready to kiss another man in front of witnesses yet – but after a few moments he suddenly went rigid and blinked frantically. There was some kind of glimmer – or light – covering his eyeballs for a second or two. Then they were back to their normal hazel color and Castiel slowly pulled away panting, leaving an astonished hunter back.

"I..." Dean swallowed and continued shakily: "I can see again."


	8. Chuck

AN: This chapter is rated M because... well because of the stuff Chuck is struggling to write ;)

* * *

Chuck had done his homework. He had even visited one of those message boards of Becky's - holy crap, they had been discussing really disturbing stuff on one of them. Rimming anyone? Or fisting? Bloodplay? Some of those women were obviously sick. But Chuck needed help. Seeing was not writing and even he had to admit the one scene in Road to Hell with full frontal Dean... not one of his best works. So he, an established writer, Prophet of the Lord, had lowered himself to posting on 's Winchest chat looking for help.

~*~

Stubbleissexy4 wrote on 12/23/2009 22:14:  
Need to write hot boy-on-boy action. Never done this before - any tips?

Never2hotboyz wrote on 12/23/2009 22:25:  
kinky or vanilla?

Stubbleissexy4 wrote on 12/23/2009 22:28:  
No. Not kinky. Just two bys and a few feathers.

Never2hotboyz wrote on 12/23/2009 22:33:  
angel p0rn? normally not my ship...

Stubbleissexy4 wrote on 12/23/2009 22:39:  
Kinda... I think... You see, I've had this dream and I need to get it out of my brain.

Sammysgirl4eva wrote on 12/23/2009 22:39:  
Ugh, a Cas-lover! THIS IS A WINCHEST CHATROOM, MORON!!! FUCK OFF!

Stubbleissexy4 wrote on 12/23/2009 22:41:  
Um... Sorry?

Never2hotboyz wrote on 12/23/2009 22:42:  
sammysgirl stop the flames or this time the mods ll ban you for good!

Never2hotboyz wrote on 12/23/2009 22:42:  
stubbleissexy meet sammysgirl the troll. just ignore her, it's that time of the month again...

Never2hotboyz wrote on 12/23/2009 22:42:  
so... you want to slash castiel with...? sam, dean, uriel, bobby?

Stubbleissexy4 wrote on 12/23/2009 22:42:  
Uriel?? That's just plain wrong... Nah, Dean.

Never2hotboyz wrote on 12/23/2009 22:45:  
that angel surely knows who's hot 8)

Never2hotboyz wrote on 12/23/2009 22:45:  
ever thought about adding sam and writing a steaming 3some?

Stubbleissexy4 wrote on 12/23/2009 22:48:  
Wanna start small, just the two of them...

Never2hotboyz wrote on 12/23/2009 22:50:  
ok, pm me your email and ll sent you a few links.

Stubbleissexy4 wrote on 12/23/2009 22:52:  
Thanks!

~*~

Chuck had visited the reference sites and learned more about gay sex, bottoms, tops and throbbing members than he ever wanted to know, thank you very much. But still this whole sex-scene-with-Cas-thingy made him _very_ nervous.

Chuck even thought about begging Becky to write it for him but then he would have to tell her all the details - writing it down instead suddenly sounded much more appealing.

He made sure to have a fresh bottle of booze next to his computer and already enough of a buzz as he finally sat down to write. He had to get Dean/Cas out of his mind before he dreamed again of them heated, sweaty, rubbing against each other... Chuck filled his glass and took a huge gulp.

_Their second kiss was nothing like their first. Not awkward and embarrassed because of the audience. Now they were alone in the hunter's little chamber, nobody to witness their longing._

_Dean pressed his lips sweetly against Castiel's, feeling as soft and dry as the last time. Gently he run his tongue across the Angel's bottom lip begging for entrance and Castiel almost immediately opened up for the hunter who eagerly but still carefully let his tongue sweep inside. The Angel tasted of Earl Grey - his favorite blend – and something other that was unique and defied each and every description that came into Dean's mind. Not that he was able to form any sophisticated thought much longer because the next moment Castiel was sucking on the hunter's tongue and most of Dean's brain capacity suddenly rushed south._

Chuck grabbed for his glass and took another swig. Now that hadn't been that bad... Apparently it was way more easy than he had thought. But then again this had just been the first kiss of many to follow, each a bit less chaste then the previous... Chuck emptied his drink and poured in another. He glanced at his watch. There still were two hours left... perhaps he would be able to finish this scene?

_Dean marveled at Castiel's chest. Smooth pale flesh that not only held so much power contained but made him want to lick each and every inch of it, too. He nibbled at the Angel's collarbone, tasting the silky skin, eliciting a soft gasp and slowly ventured down towards one of the dark nipples already protruding slightly. Slowly the hunter licked around the attracting nub feeling how Castiel shivered underneath. Teasingly he blew across the nipple making the Angel moan softly. The precious sound went straight to Dean's groin, spreading warmth and made his jeans suddenly feel tighter._

Holy crap! He was writing porn! Chuck emptied another glass as he tried to control his rapid breathing. He was doing it!

_Discarding the tie wasn't as easy as it seemed. The damn knot was not willing to open and Dean's fingers were too clumsy with need. Instead he helped Castiel to finally shrug off his dressing shirt and marveled at the obvious tent in the Angel's pants. With skillful fingers he slowly unbuckled the black leather belt and opened Castiel's trousers, caught the first glimpse of the Angel's dark green underpants, the outline of his already hard cock clearly visible. Dean had to remind himself that Castiel was a virgin, had never been touched by anybody so the hunter took his time, discarded the black slacks with the Angel's help and slowly caressed the exposed thighs. Gently Dean's hand moved up, touching every inch of Castiel's skin but never touching the green fabric. A soft moan escaped the Angel's lips, sounding suspiciously like a long-drawn-out 'Dean' that sent shivers up and down the hunter's spine. Meticulously Dean placed kiss after kiss on the dark happy trail, noticing how Castiel's dick jerked each time they touched. The soft green fabric was already stained by a wet spot of pre-cum as the hunter finally arrived at the waistband. _

Chuck let his fingers run through his greasy hear trying his best not to freak out. The images of Castiel wishing the hunter's clothes away, of Dean opening the Angel slowly up, inserting finger after finger came to his mind with new force, as vividly as the first time he had had the vision. The Prophet of the Lord had a really hard time to deny any arousal that witnessing those intimate moments had caused. He had nearly emptied the bottle as he found the courage to continue writing. One and a half hours left. He could do it. He would finish that chapter and afterwards burn the pages to ashes!

_Dean could not remember the last time he had felt so good. The Angel was hot and tight, each and every movement threatening to push him over the edge. The hunter wanted it to be something special for Castiel - it was his Angel's first time! Castiel moved slowly above him, his pelvis dancing over the hunter's hips while Dean's fingers were alternately clutching the sharp hipbones and working on the Angel's dick. He felt fire pooling somewhere behind his navel, arousal slowly morphing to pure bliss as his eyes caught Castiel's face. The Angel's cheeks were flushed, his mouth open and panting, the lips slick and swollen from countless kisses and bites, the eyes wide open, unseeing, pupils blown with only a thin ring of dark blue visible. That sight was nearly too much, Dean had to concentrate hard not to cum here and now. "Cas...," he murmured instead. "Show me your wings, please." A soft rustle of feathers then the huge shadows of a pair of august wings painted the opposite wall dark. Dean came with a loud groan of the Angel's name, filling him up, loosing himself in the orgasmic bliss that rushed through him and stripped him of every brain function, pumping thick streaks of cum into the body around his dick, still shivering with need. _

_The hunter didn't struggle as Castiel placed the sleep mask over Dean's eyes, blindfolding him and preventing the hunter from witnessing the Angel's first orgasm – and perhaps loosing his eyesight in the process._

Chuck heard the door opening, hastily closed the document and turned away to hide his flushed face.

"Chuck, baby, dinner's ready...," Becky fluted in honeyed tones right behind his left ear.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm cu... coming, Becky. Just... let me print something out. I'll join you in a minute, ok?"

Thankfully she wiggled out of the writer's room again before noticing Chuck's flushed cheeks or his accelerated breathing. It took the Prophet a few minutes to regain his composure before leaving his computer.

~*~

It was already an hour later as he returned to his working place. Chuck searched the piles of paper, trash and _stuff_ on his desk for the snippet he had found the other day in a newspaper. As he finally spotted the crinkled piece he placed it on his keyboard and dialed Bobby's number.

"Who's there?" the gruff voice demanded to know.

"It's me, Chuck."

"Chuck..." the old hunter signed in... disapproval?

"Yeah... Hi, Bobby..." Chuck was nervous. How do you talk about windows that had been orgasmed to smithereens by an Angel of the Lord? "I might have something... you know... for your... breakage of glass?"

"Boy, what are you talking..."

Suddenly there was a high pitched scream that made Chuck's eardrums die in a soft 'Plop' and then there was just silence while the Prophet wondered what had gone wrong. He had seen the windows explode while the vision had provided him with a perfect view of the old clock in Bobby's room showing 8 pm. and now it was more than half an hour later. Obviously you couldn't even trust Godsend prophecies anymore.


End file.
